What Happened
by Emma-Alberta
Summary: This is my take on what happened to Bash after he left the castle to get men to help with Mary's plight in Scotland.


So I had the idea for this short story a little while back. I always wondered what Bash went through when he rode to get those companies for Mary. Hope you like.

What Happened

Francis stood and smiled as his brother galloped down the stone road, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. This was it, Mary would get her men and she wouldn't have to marry that Portuguese snake, Thomas. Sebastian was nothing but a black figure in the distance now, he knew his brother would not fail him so he allowed himself to smile in victory. What he did not know was what was to come.

§

Bash turned to see his brother still stood watching as he sped off into the night. A grin appeared across Sebastian's face as he urged his horse to run faster, the thought of him helping Mary stay in France gave him the will to keep his tired eyes focused on the road. He knew that he could never have her, and seeing the moments that his brother and she shared hurt him, but her smile, the way that she confided in him and looked at him made that pain a little easier to bear.

Bash galloped well into the night, arriving at the camp just before dawn. The men were buzzing with excitement at the King's Bastard's arrival, they had grown bored and fat waiting to hear news of when their King would require their services.

He trotted through the camp towards a large red tent that sat proudly in the middle of the encampment, he knew that's where the General resided. He jumped off of his black stallion and handed the reigns to one of the guardsmen that stood guard outside and then turned to the other, he was a tall skinny man with a long ginger beard that was neatly platted and rested on the breastplate of his armour that glittered in the morning sun.

'Can you let your General know that Sebastian de Poitiers has arrived with news from the King.' Said Bash, as he straightened his leather jacket.

The man nodded and then disappeared through the entrance leaving Sebastian to wait in the frosty morning air. After a few minutes, the guard returned with an older man behind him. His armour was much more extravagant, a long red cape trimmed in gold, hung around his broad shoulders.

'My lord, to what do we owe this pleasure?' he asked as he gave Sebastian a friendly slap on the arm.

'Your companies are required in Scotland,' started Bash as he slapped the man back, a smile crossing his lips 'you must leave for the ships as soon as you are able.' He finished as he then rested his hand on the pommel of his sword.

'I will ready the men at once my lord.' Replied the man as he began to stalk through the camp yelling orders at his men.

They began scurrying around grabbing their weapons and packs, like mice scurrying around the kitchen searching for scraps. Bash grabbed his horse from the guard and mounted it quickly. His heart pounding against his chest with excitement, this was it.

Within two hours the men were ready to leave. Bash smiled as he trotted towards the General who was at the front sat proudly upon his grey steed, ready to lead his men to the ships.

§

They marched at a brisk pace, not stopping for rest, they knew they needed to make it to the docks before dark. They were now surrounded by a thick, dense forest, Bash's stomach turned as a bad feeling gnawed away at him. As they made their way through the dimly lit woodland it felt as if they were being watched. Suddenly whistling sounds filled the air as an arrow whizzed past Bash's face. He looked to the General who had drawn his sword, his eyes scanning the surroundings for the assailants.

'AMBUSH!' He shouted as he looked at Sebastian.

Bash then looked around to see men spilling down the hills that surrounded the road.

'It's the English.' He replied as he pulled out his sword.

'They must have ridden out from Calais!' Stated the general as he led his horse towards Bash.

The men began to form a circle as English soldiers began to charge towards them. Sebastian's hand gripped tightly around the hilt of his sword, his heart racing as he saw the English fighters push their way through Frenchmen. Without a second thought, he leapt from his horse and charged towards the fight, his sword cutting down every soldier in his path. He knew deep down he should leave to get word back to his father that the mission was a failure, but the soldier in him told him to stay. He continued to slice through the English fighters that charged at him, his eyes darting around to see bodies of men and horses scattered around him, blood staining the brown leaves that covered the ground. Snapping back to reality he turned to see an English soldier stood before him, he was clearly a man of rank as his uniform differed from the other men he had fought. The man smirked at Bash as he swung his sword around, making a point of showing off his swordsman skills. Bash stepped towards the man and swung his sword only for it to be parried with lightning speed, the man then thrust his sword towards Bash but he dodged it with ease. The men continued to dance, their skill evenly matched and it began to feel like the fight would never end. He swung his sword towards the man's head only for it to be blocked and then the men just looked at each other for what felt like an eternity, their features filled with determination. Before Bash could react the man grabbed the blade that had sat at his hip and plunged it deeply into Sebastian's side.

Images flashed in front of his eyes as he fell to his knees, his hand clutching his bleeding side. He saw images of his brother, his father, his mother, Mary. He was pulled back to reality by the sound of men screaming as the battle raged on around him. He looked up to see that his attacker had gone, leaving him to bleed to death slowly. Weakly pushed himself to his feet using his sword as a crutch, once he was on his feet he gingerly sheathed his sword and turned to see his horse had not bolted during the heat of battle.

Bash limped towards his steed, warm blood seeping between his fingers and with great effort he managed to mount his horse, wincing as he sat up. Taking one last look at the fight behind him he kicked his horse into a gallop leaving the horror of the battle behind him. He had to tell his father.

For what felt like days he rode back towards the castle, what little strength he had was leaving him quickly. His head felt heavy as he slowed his horse to a trot, the pain of his wound was becoming too much to bear. He looked up to see he was not far from the castle now, he just had to make it a little further, his father needed to know that they were ambushed. His heart began to ache at the realization he had failed Mary, it hit him like a great wave and he knew now she would have no choice but to marry Thomas. She would have to leave.

Darkness tugged at his mind as he nudged his horse to carry on, the walls of the castle growing closer as he fought desperately to stay conscious. His body was growing so weak now that he no longer had the strength to fight it, and with that unconsciousness took him.

His horse continued on as Bash's body slumped forward in his saddle, his loyal steed trotting onto the green out-front of the Castle. Servants gasped at the site of their beloved Sebastian.

'GUARDS!' shouted one as he ran towards the nickering horse, upon which the dying bash currently resided.

'QUICKLY.' Shouted another as one of the groundsmen quickly grabbed Bash by his shoulders and pulled him from his saddle.

Two guards ran swiftly towards the unconscious man as he lay motionless in the servant's arms, his face glistening with sweat as fever began to rage through him. All the while Francis watched from a window above, his stomach dropped at the site of his wounded brother. Had he sent him to slaughter?

Slowly Bash started to come to again as he felt himself being carried through the castle, the faint sound of Mary and Francis' voice echoed in his ears. He could feel himself being placed on a small bed, then pain ripping through his belly as someone began to clean the blood around his wound.

'How is he?' said a voice, he could tell it was his father.

'He is gravely injured. I can tend to his wounds, ease the pain, but I make no guarantees.' Replied a voice that could only be Nostradamus.

Bash dug down deep inside of himself to find the strength to speak, he knew he could quite possibly die so he needed to tell his father what happened. There was a traitor in the midst and he needed to know.

'Father,' he said weakly, 'the English… rode out from Calais to face us.' Bash paused again, his breaths becoming harder to catch 'we never made it to the ships… it was a slaughter.'

Bash felt a presence at his side, clutching onto his arm.

'He shouldn't be talking.' Said Nostradamus sternly 'I'll give him a potion and put him to sleep. Clear the room, it's the best thing for him.'

Bash could only listen to what was being said about him, his eyes were too heavy for him to open. He felt like there was an anvil on his chest and it was getting heavier and heavier. He feared that if Nostradamus put him to sleep, he wouldn't wake up. He wanted to beg him not to be he couldn't find the words.

'Bash,' his brother's voice was like music to hears ears, except his words were filled with sorrow 'Bash I'm so sorry.' He finished.

A cold liquid trickled down his throat causing him to cough. _You don't need to be sorry bother_ he thought to himself as the black blanket of unconsciousness began to envelop him again. Then all was silent and all he could think about was if he would ever see Mary again.

§

Well there is my take on what happened to Bash before he turned up at the Castle wounded and I added a little at the end about his point of view after he returned wounded. Hope you liked it and please do leave me some feedback. Love to read your comments J


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